The Last: Snapshots
by Rigil Kent
Summary: Moments in time, set in "The Last" universe. Principally SM/WW
1. Year Seven: Sunrise

**The Last: Snapshots**

**Author's Note: **

This is not a sequel. Let's get that out of the way before proceeding. Rather, it is a series of additional glimpses, 'Snapshots' if you will, of moments in time in 'The Last' universe. Because the original work covered so much time and with such a broad brush, I was not able to do all that I wanted. There were scenes that did not fit the narrative, slices of time in the lives of the various characters that seemed like wasted space, or just random ideas that detracted from the greater tale being told.

And thus, 'The Last: Snapshots' was born.

There is no overriding story narrative in this. It is simply meant to house the random scenes I was unable to fit into the core narrative or develop fully. Some chapters will be short, some might not be. Some might tie into the core narrative of 'The Last,' while some may have little mini-narratives of their own. As each is published, the fic will be set to Complete because I don't know when I will decide that I'm done or when inspiration will strike. And finally, feel free to offer suggestions about little moments providing they fit in the core narrative – I may use them and write something (in which case, I will give you proper credit).

* * *

**Year Seven: Sunrise**

**December, 2019**

Of all the places Diana expected to be on Christmas Day, the surface of Mars was not even on the list.

It had been Kal's idea – strangely, he had no plans with Lois for a change, and in fact, seemed to not spend very as much time with Ms. Lane as he once did, which once more ignited that stupid, foolish, ridiculous sense of misplaced hope swirling around in Diana's belly – and as someone weary of the enforced good cheer that seemed to accompany this overly commercialized, quasi-Christian holiday, Diana had promptly agreed, especially in the wake of the latest disagreement with her mother. The League had things well in hand at the moment and she would wrestle Cerberus himself if it meant she did not have to listen to another of the irritating and simplistic advertising jingles urging an unnecessary purchase this 'holiday season.'

So here she was, descending toward a desolate stretch of red sand overlooking an even more bleak landscape. Great mountains jutted up into the strange-looking night sky and a misshapen moon hung heavy there. It was still cold enough for her to take notice, though not so bad that she could not function. Kal was leading the way, of course, and it irritated her more than a little bit that she always seemed to be following him. Where he went, she did as well, without question or hesitation or complaint. She almost sighed – perhaps Mother had a point about her strange blindness when it came to this man.

Kal touched down first, lowering the large container he carried to the dirt before turning the handle clockwise and stepping back. Instantly, the diamond-shaped symbol upon the handle shot up, detaching from the device itself and rising up to a height of three or four meters. It rotated in place before breaking apart into six pieces – from the five angles of the Kryptonian-shaped symbol shot a handful of tiny devices that spread out, carrying with them an energy field. At the very same moment, the surface underfoot hardened to something resembling the walls of the Fortress. Kal was grinning broadly, especially as the case he had been carried unfolded even more; from the hardened ground, a pair of broad chairs rose up, which Diana had to admit was fairly impressive. She kept her expression as impassive as she could manage, though, even when she felt the sharp, sudden pressure accompanying the deployment of a human-norm atmosphere. It would not do to let him see what she truly thought.

"I knew you were jealous of my shield," she said instead, once he allowed his solar visor to retract and she followed suit with her own protective measures.

"I was making a point," Kal immediately retorted. "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." Diana rolled her eyes even as she stepped closer to the invisible forcefield and touched it. Her hand passed through it easily enough which was also quite interesting. "This is an expedition pressure tent," he said in response to her questioning glance. "I made a few modifications…"

"With Kelex's help," Diana guessed.

"With his help, yeah." He tapped the long case and its lid retracted, revealing food. Oddly, he was frowning. "I still haven't figured how everything on this works, though. I never seemed to run out of room when I was packing this thing … maybe Phantom Zone technology?"

"Or Kryptonian magic," Diana said with a smile. "So … why are we here exactly?" She caught the purple fruit he tossed her way. "A picnic?" Did her voice waver? Hera, she hoped not.

"Sort of." Kal continued extracting food and beverages, placing them on the lid that served perfectly as a table. "First, I figured you needed a distraction, what with your mom and all." Diana blinked.

"How did you know I was arguing with her again?"

"Well, it's a day that ends with the letter Y," Kal answered with a quick grin. "Plus, you've been wearing the full armor including that godawful helmet and that only seems to happen when you're really pissed at her." At this, Diana grunted softly, eyeing first the fruit – it looked and felt like an apple, though she'd never seen one this color before – and then him. Had she really been that obvious? She shook the moment off and took a step closer to the open middle of the tent. Clashing her bracers together, she let the panoply fall away, leaving her clad in the far more comfortable chiton. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kal grimace slightly as her armor floated to the ground and had to chuckle.

"That does not explain why _you_ are here," she said as she bit into the apple. It was _glorious._ She must have made a noise of pleasure because Kal grinned at her.

"I've been experimenting with some crops at the Fortress," he said quickly. "Mixed some Kryptonian fruit genes with a regular apple. You like?"

"I do." She took another bite. "Stop prevaricating, Kal," she ordered lightly.

"It was something Hal said to me." Kal did something to his armor and his cape quivered before retracting, securing itself to his back in an almost solid, flat square. "Did you know I've seen sunrises on nine different planets, not including Earth?" He gestured as he took a seat on one of the chairs. "And I've never seen one here on _Barsoom_." Diana gave him another look – from the way he used the unfamiliar word, it was one of his neverending literary references she did not understand – but he was looking into the distance and seemed to not notice her lack of understanding. Abruptly, he shrugged. "You grew up on Themyscira alongside mythological creatures so you expect to see … wonders." Kal gave her a sheepish smile. "I'm just a Kansas boy with freaky powers who grew up hoping the Jayhawks wouldn't suck from year to year." Diana blinked. Birds? No, it would be sports. It was _always_ sports.

"Football?" she guessed, which caused him to chuckle.

"College football, yeah." He scowled. "And they sucked ass this year like you wouldn't believe."

"Likely not," Diana replied. She tested one of the chairs for stability and then took a seat. It was surprisingly comfortable. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. "Could Lois not make it?" she asked hesitantly, still not quite sure how to maneuver through this particular minefield. Over the last few weeks, Bruce had made a couple of leading comments that, in addition to being his usual 'look at how brilliant I am' type of statements, hinted at a dissolution of the Kal-Lois romantic relationship. Ever since, Diana had been trying to figure out a way to ask about this without sounding … Hera, this was harder than it had any right to be. She'd had no trouble explaining herself to Steve. Why was it so hard with Kal?

"Are you kidding?" Kal fished out one of those alien beers from the container and tossed it her way. "She won't even get onto an airplane anymore thanks to me." He shook his head. "Ever since that Intergang thing …"

"What Intergang thing?"

"Oh. Yeah. You were on Themyscira during that mess." Kal leaned back in his seat. "Lois was doing an expose on New York state government and corruption a couple of years ago, pissed off Intergang somehow, and they sent these … pheromone tracking hunter-killers after her. Tiny little things, only about this big." He held up one hand, with his thumb and pointing finger about two inches apart. "Problem was, they were all over the city, so I could smash one and fifty more would take their place. And she couldn't leave Metropolis because of _another _one of their attempts to kill her."

"So how did you resolve it?" Kal snickered.

"I didn't," he replied. "I called in J'onn and let him do the detective work while I flew Lois around the city, ducking those tiny machines the entire time. And those things were fast! We had to stay airborne for a couple of hours." His smile was broad. "She _hated _it. I think she threw up on my old suit so many times I ended up throwing it out." Diana tried not to laugh at the mental image – she liked Lois and considered the woman a friend – but failed and snickered, but was unfortunately taking a sip of the Almeracian beer and it almost came up the wrong way. "Ever since then, she _refuses_ to fly." Diana snorted. "Like you've got any room to talk," Kal said with a wry look. At that, Diana had to shrug in at least partial agreement – after all, Steve _had _sworn off flying himself shortly after they first met.

They sat there for a while longer, laughing and joking over the various foibles of their strange lives, and Diana could tell the instant that the sun began to peek over the distant mountains. Not because she was facing that direction, but rather because she was watching Kal. He tensed very slightly, though she doubted he was even fully aware of doing so, and a moment later, turned his head in the direction of the sun.

"Very nice," Kal remarked long minutes later.

"I've seen better," Diana replied.

"Me too," he said, "but don't tell J'onn."

"How could I when you will not introduce me to him?" The smile in her voice gave away her amusement and Kal shrugged, knowing that she did not blame him. It was the Martian who remained leery of people, not Kal. "On Themyscira," she added, "the sunrise is only topped by the sunsets." Not for the first time, she wished her moth was less recalcitrant. She so wanted to show Themyscira to Kal; he'd shared so much of himself with her and yet, because of her mother's misplaced fears, she could not reciprocate.

"Don't forget the random harpy attack." Diana returned his smile.

"Ah, but those only make things exciting!" When he opened his mouth to respond, she continued. "Think of them as my equivalent to your random robot attacks in Metropolis." At that, he laughed outright. It was a lovely sound, one that she had not heard enough since his mother passed.

And that, Diana decided, made this entire trip worth it.


	2. Year Zero: Crisis

**Year Zero: Crisis**

**A/N: **Takes place prior to chapter one, but post Man of Steel. In _The Last_ universe, Kal is the first 'super-hero' (although, thanks to the movie, it's a given that Bruce is already operational as the Bat.) I like the Golden Age heroes as much as everyone else, but in this case, I wanted to go with the more traditional 'Superman begins the Heroic Age' thing. There are also some implications here as to the reason metahumans exist…

* * *

**August, 2013**

The situation was dire and no one knew what to do.

That was the unstated message Bruce Wayne took from the panicked scientists and government officials, though there was no such _official_ declaration, of course, which was to be expected. After all, it had only been a few weeks since those godlike Kryptonians first made their presences known and humanity was still trying to recover. Metropolis was in ruins, tens of thousands were dead with even more missing, and Earth had been fundamentally changed.

Today was the fifth day of a planned seven day emergency conference of world leaders and scientists to discuss and debate the ramifications of the Kryptonian attack. Bruce had been here from the beginning, hoping to learn something new, but now, the speakers were beginning to repeat themselves or rehash previously covered ground. It was ironic, he mused as he leaned back in the seat he'd claimed near the back of the auditorium, that prior to the Kryptonian attempt to terraform the planet, the scientific community had still been bickering over the existence of man-made climate change. Well, now there was absolutely no denying that Earth's ecosphere was radically altered, even for those who had been diehard opponents to the global warming model, what with the non-terrestrial particulates ejected into the atmosphere or the geological damage caused by that … world engine? Wasn't that what the military had called it? Yes, he thought so.

"And in closing, I want to remind this body that the data remains inconclusive," the latest speaker was saying, his expression pinched and nervous, but Bruce tuned him out as he let his eyes scan the crowd instead. There was so much fear in this great hall, so much confusion and anger and terror. And why shouldn't there be, he wondered. Not only did they know humanity wasn't alone in the universe (which the various worldwide religions were all scrambling to explain), but a god walked among them now.

A god by the name of Kal-El.

An interesting name, that. In Hebrew, it mean Voice of God and from what Bruce had seen, the name was certainly apt. Thus far, the Kryptonian had maintained a fairly low profile since the Metropolis incident, though the media – which had inexplicably taken to calling him Superman; why Superman? He wasn't a _man_ – had scattered reports of him appearing all over the globe, stepping in to save lives or put out fires or, in one bizarre instance, to rescue a cat from a tree! Thanks to Alfred's less savory contacts in the American government, Bruce knew that the U.S. military was burning through cash in their attempts to keep track of this Kal-El with the usual means – drones, satellites, even a handful of extremely powerful land-based tracking systems – but they kept running into difficulty. This being seemed capable of appearing and disappearing at will. Having seen the reports and salvaged gun camera footage of this … Superman in action against his fellow Kryptonians, Bruce had to wonder what the government was planning to do if they _did _locate him. Guns were pretty much useless. That dark-haired female had taken a Maverick air-to-surface missile at point-blank range and all it did was knock her unconscious. According to the government reports Bruce had read, this Kal-El was considerably more powerful and only growing moreso with each day.

"I'm here to help," the Kryptonian had announced to Earth through the Daily Planet, but the jury was still out on his honesty. Lane's articles about the alien were devoid of her usual tone of muted disgust – if anything, there was a sense of awe in her words that Bruce had never noticed before – which was definitely worth investigating. She was supposed to know who the alien was prior to Zod's arrival, after all.

Bruce sat through another two lectures – one was a geneticist who insisted that the Kryptonian world engine's alterations to Earth's atmosphere could conceivably produce significant mutation in the human genome, creating what she called metahumans, while the other was a geologist who claimed that the planet _could_ recover from the damage inflicted upon it by the Kryptonian world engine, no matter that the general consensus among his peers was one of doom following the increase of Earth's diameter by an incredible seven percent – before making his careful exit. No one paid much attention to him, which was good as billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, only recently having returned to the public scene after a decade abroad, had no business being at such a highly technical conference, not with his reputation. Nor, for that matter, did he even have an invitation, though this was easily remedied. It was always elucidating to see just what he could do with sufficient money.

He caught sight of a few familiar faces on his way out. Of course Luthor would be here, likely maneuvering to ensure that LexCorp covered all angles, but Amanda Waller's presence was slightly troubling. Their paths had only crossed a few times – if he had any less respect for her capabilities, he might have presumed that she'd been ignorant of his identity when he stumbled into one of her numerous anti-terror operations while he was trying to escape from the League's assassins some months ago – and he took extra caution to avoid her.

Outside, rain was pouring down as thunder boomed and lightning flashed. Bruce frowned slightly – this was another after-effect of that world engine; it had rained almost nonstop for the last two weeks, which wouldn't have been that much of a problem if they weren't in Dubai – before flicking up his collar and hurrying into the storm. By the time he reached his car, he was thoroughly soaked.

"A successful outing, sir?" Alfred asked much later. The video connection was crisp and clear for a change – likely due to his breaking down and purchasing WayneTech equipment instead of relying on sub-standard local gear – but the terrible acoustics of this shoddy rental room made use of headphones necessary.

"Intelligence was gathered," Bruce replied. He frowned. "How are your smuggling contacts in this area?" Alfred's eyebrows shot up. After all, his former life as an intelligence agent was something they very rarely even mentioned. "I need to be in Gotham but I don't want my presence to be noted just yet."

"Plausible deniability, sir?" Bruce shrugged. He'd decided to attend this gathering at the last moment, so there was no official record of Bruce Wayne leaving the country, and from what he'd seen on the international news, his absence had been noted. Damage control would be necessary – already, he had a couple of ideas about how to do that and even the most conservative of those approaches made him wince inside. That sort of stupidity was necessary, he had to remind himself for the hundredth time no matter how much of a blow it was to his pride, if he did not want people to link him to the Bat-Man. Had he not already done this before, with his return to the public eye carefully orchestrated to occur _after _he began cutting a swath through the city's underworld while wearing the cowl? That too had been carefully planned: if the Bat-Man had appeared in Gotham _after _Bruce Wayne returned, anyone with a lick of sense and rudimentary math skills should be able to put two and two together. Instead, he'd let the various interviewers know that it was the appearance of the masked vigilante that actually drew him back.

Thoughts of his alternate identity instantly sent a twinge of half-healed pain through his leg and Bruce grimaced slightly. Allowing his body to heal from Gordon's latest attempt at apprehension had been another reason he'd decided to attend. The police were getting too close to capturing him, especially with Lieutenant Gordon calling the shots. What he really needed was a man on the inside, preferably Gordon himself…

"I may have a few old … associates in the region who might be able to assist," Alfred finally remarked. "Shall I make the calls?" Bruce nodded.

"Do so," he said quickly, "I'd like to be back in Gotham by tomorrow if possible." The smile Alfred gave him could only be called malicious

"Of course, Master Bruce. I do hope that you do not mind a bit of discomfort." Still smirking, Alfred killed the connection which caused Bruce to sigh. He had a very bad feeling about this.

Six hours later, he was airborne, once again on his way home. And thanks to Alfred's wretched sense of humor, he was in a coffin.

It was going to be a long trip.


End file.
